Both Sides of Our Story
by Meian Rose
Summary: Nezumi had come across a boy covered in blood. It should have been that simple, but as it turned out, simple was never the case when it came to No. 6 and he should have known better. There was no way he'd leave it alone, however; not when he was this close. And of the assassin he was harboring? Airhead. (Prequel to: The Start of a Bad Joke) Nezu/Shi Relatively-Dark-Themes
1. Chapter 1

_When I'd first found the airhead..He really wasn't much of an airhead at all._

_In fact, he was somebody that I would have grown to respect; somebody easy to understand._

_ Maybe he would have thought differently, had I never interfered. But I wasn't so merciful. _

_And he knew well enough that nothing about No. 6 was right, except there was much more to it than that. He'd lived the treacherous nights that were unseen by the picturesque residents, the blinding light of a new day that never seemed to play out any differently than the one prior, and he'd seen a bit more and gathered enough information that he could have written a book and sold millions upon every one of his discoveries._

_Around that time, he, out of the slim few, had witnessed the series of well-structured lies that slowly but surely built up the great, holy city of No. 6. _

_The day I met him, he was covered in blood._

It had all started off, innocently enough. As far as he'd recalled, he'd taken a quiet walk down the streets of West Block, simply for the sake of something to do. As suicidal as it sound; it was far better than sitting at home for the better part of the day and scavenging food at night, like the animal he truly was.

He'd come across a sectioned off part of the city, which was quite unusual. It wasn't as though No. 6 had never sent their little expeditions across the wall before, but on a usual day there was at least a sign or two of their presence..such as a moving van, or police crossing tape. Any such to warn wayward travelers of the dominant society and keep all noses turned, down preferably, and away from business that didn't belong to any but one or more specific individual. In most cases, that individual wasn't too far off to be considered an acquaintance of No. 6.

At the very least, a time where someone partaking in such an expedition who'd nothing to do with the holy city was unheard of. There was no such thing as a free man.

What he'd found that day was a truly unusual sight. He ducked under the plastic board set up as a poorly constructed road detour, despite the lack of a proper road, and immediately turned tail into an alley.

The stench of death weighed thickly in the air, but that was never an unusual occurrence for West Block. At least once or twice a day someone, albeit due to unhealthy living conditions or unfortunate circumstances of the undocumented kind, would surely drop dead in the middle of the street. When it had become a frequency to the degree of normalcy, however, he'd only come to realize one late afternoon during another standstill. Yet, a part of him was sure that the gory weigh of life had developed along side the mock-city.

The dim light of the setting sun suddenly made itself apparent, and the knot in his chest tightened. It was a morning—turn back now, for this was anything but a good idea. Perhaps he should have listened, but obeying commonly accepted judgment had become nothing short of the past.

A red substance seeped down the center of the alley and he froze. Any other day, this was a common occurrence. Any other day he would've sense enough to run now and never return, but it had become painfully obvious that today just wasn't his day at all.

"Ah, is someone there?" A calm voice rose from the darkness, "I can't see you, so forgive me.."

Despite himself, he stepped closer. Out of the pitch black of the alley that wasn't illuminated by the sun that had already fallen past the distant hills, the faintest outline of pure white was visible. He wanted a closer look, but something among his body had taken the liberty of preventing that next step. There was no further point in risking his life any longer, so he remained still.

His brave mouth moved on it's own and demanded, "Who's there?"

The sound of footsteps softly walking concrete drew closer. There was no soft squish in his steps when he should have tread over blood, so he assumed the man was simply walking along the sides, where the blood hadn't traveled.

After what felt like forever, given the anxiety that had surfaced upon realizing he may have very well put his life on the line by demanding such a thing, the mysterious man stepped out into the thin ray of light, fading quickly.

Except it was hardly a _man_ at all. Rather, his confidence regained it's stubborn hold as he'd realized that the figure before him was nothing but a teenage boy, hardly older than himself. His eyes traveled upward, noting the red scar that marred his otherwise pale skin and the white hair that neatly fell around his neck.

Upon meeting violet red eyes, his face that spoke of equal curiosity twisted into an innocent smile, "Hello." Avoiding his gaze as quickly as possible, he noted the knife in his left hand, and the clothes he wore, too proper to be remotely indigenous to West Block, drenched in blood in a fashion similar to the alley.

It was clear this boy was a murderer. "Why did you do it?"

The boy cocked his head to the side as if Nezumi had grown a second head, "What do you mean?"

"Why would you murder a man in a city like this? Are the inner walls of No. 6 not good enough for you?"

He grit his teeth in an attempt to control his temper, but felt that overall it was no use. Whether or not he lashed out at this teen, there was a good chance he was due to die that day.

His smile upturned into a distant frown, "He deserved it. This man did nothing to benefit humanity, so I was asked to dispose of him..Now that I've done my job, the city will rejoice."

That was cryptic enough to deter him from pressing the subject of '_how could you!_' but not nearly enough to alter his genuine curiosity. "..I see, so you were asked to murder. Then may I ask who put you up to it?"

He smiled again, "I wasn't put up to it. I'm happy that I'm serving humanity..This man," the arm holding the knife pointed somewhere behind himself, likely where the body lay, "Was convicted of multiple accounts of physical and sexual assault..Not to mention drug abuse. Master had given him a warning, but as of late we suspect his involvement in human trafficking. He's too far gone, however.."

"So rather than send this man back to prison, you decided to execute him? Is that how No. 6's legal system works, now?"

The boy shrugged, "I know nothing of the legal system..I work underground. Quite literally, my home lies in a series of underground tunnels strewn throughout No. 6."

As much as he enjoyed playing twenty questions with this kid, there was no point in furthering this conversation. Depending on whether or not the morbid little man decided to let him live, he was far too ready to return home.

He opened his mouth to daringly bid the boy a goodbye and perhaps, if he was lucky, pretend this never happened, but the boy had already spun around to face the alley. Back facing Nezumi, he pondered whether or not now was a good time to exact vengeance upon a member of No. 6, but ultimately decided against it. He wasn't about to waste his time on a brat like this, no matter how intriguing.

"Excuse me.." his voice barely rang below a whisper, "Do you know where I am?"

"..Can you repeat that? Are you telling me you don't know where you are?"

The boy barely threw a glance behind him, "..I see, so I'm not alone. Can you please tell me where I am..And, do I know you?"

Somehow he wasn't quite as fearful as before; rather, greatly disturbed. "I never introduced myself, but I spoke with you for a minute or two. You mentioned something about a master, a man suspected of trafficking, and benefiting the human race. In other words, you're a monster that resides within No. 6, am I right?"

He shook his head violently, "N-No! That's..That's not me! I'd never.." His eyes traveled downward, as if noting the knife for the first time.

For a brief moment, there was silence before the sound of knees hitting the ground became apparent. The boy had pulled himself into a small huddle and through the street light that traveled far enough, illuminated his shaking shoulders.

"P-Please help me." he spun around to face Nezumi, eyes locked in a desperate plea, "I'm begging you."

What possessed him to take the boy's hand was a mystery, but he'd felt it appropriate to return one of his own murderous glares, "I'll help you.."

The boy looked thankful enough, but wisely awaiting the conditions.

"I'll help you out, if you share with me all you know about No. 6. I trust you wont try to escape.."

He nodded and clutched Nezumi's hand; the bloodied one joined. "I swear..I swear!"

"And you wont tell any city officials that I have you, got it? That would make things a little..complicated."

The boy's eyes lit up with tears, whether they were tears of appreciation, sadness, or grief, he wasn't sure. "I swear I wont tell..I swear I wont tell!"

And that was how Nezumi's life changed in the short, casual time period of one late afternoon.

The walk home was silent, but in the end he'd found himself surrendering his jacket to the boy in an effort to hide the endless tracks of blood on his chest. His pants, although torn and mussed with dirt, weren't enough to draw any kind of attention. His hair, however..

That was the first thing he'd questions once he sat the bloodied boy down in the bathroom, on the nearest chair he was able to summon as he drained the blood off his hands.

"..So, you mind starting off with your hair? What the hell happened to you?"

The boy shuddered as if reliving a painful memory—which likely wasn't too far from the truth—and offered a weak smile. "I was injected with venom as a child..Shortly around _that_ time, and as a result, my hair..and this scar."

As much as he wanted to delve deeper into the world of scars that stretched across his entire body, which became apparent when the boy removed his shirt, he wanted anything but to trigger the mess of whomever he'd met before.

"..Introduce yourself." he stated simply, with the intentions of sounding a bit less demanding.

"I'm Shion!" he proudly stated, before his eyes flashed a familiar violet. They remained as he calmly held out a bloodstained hand, "I'm an elite assassin, belonging to the city of No. 6. Pleased to meet you, Nezumi."

As if it had never happened, the hand returned to his lap and a blood red, somehow less intimidating, had taken the place of glowing violet. His voice caught in his throat. "How..the hell do you know my name?"

He frowned, "I said..?" before eyes widened. He brought his forehead to his palms and left it there, "Damnit..It's happening again!"

"What's happening again?" he asked as if he hadn't quickly realized the fact that there was more than one person residing inside this body of his.

"I..I'm sorry, Nezumi. It appears he's taken a liking to you.."

"Really now?" he asked with feigned confidence, "I'm so proud. Whatever can I do to thank your majesty, for his time and effort?"

Shion's face twisted into another frown, "Don't make fun of me. You and I both know what we saw was real, and that makes you just as crazy."

"I wouldn't exactly word it as crazy." he let out an irritable sigh as he wrapped the white bandages around the length of the kid's torso, "I believe there's a lot we don't know about either city, and the people inside. There were things that we weren't meant to see or experience as humans and as far as I know, you're just unfortunate."

Shion frowned down at his hands as Nezumi moved to wash the dirt and blood off. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble. If I had my way, I would have never bothered you..or anyone else for that matter. But thank you, you're the only one that's ever tried to treat my wounds before.

And suddenly he was frustrated with himself, "What the hell? Don't mistake this for an act of kindness. You're in West Block and around here, unlike your little utopia, there's a greater chance of dying from infection than the actual wound killing you itself. I need you alive if I'm going to get the upper hand on a city like No. 6."

He cocked his head to the side, clearly interested, "You want to take down my city?"

Nezumi replied with nothing but a nod.

Shion smiled, "Then you already have the upper hand. If anything, you know valuable information that jeopardizes the city's very existence. Think of it this way, people who actually live beneath the city that are trained to be blood thirsty from early childhood..You're on your way!"

"Early childhood?" he repeated, "I take it you've been a prisoner of circumstance since you were young, then?"

He nodded, "At seven years old..My mother was murdered along with the others. I never questioned the city until then. I wasn't sure why, but it had been announced that the city was recruiting a group of six children for a project that was said to benefit humanity. Mother never liked the sound of that so she told me she'd have absolutely nothing to do with it, and I trusted her.."

His eyes shifted violet as his frown thickened, "But I was clumsy. I walked without a single care in the world. It was the day that Safu, my friend at the time..Her grandmother, her only guardian, passed away due to undocumented circumstances that were said to have been caused by old age. It had only been a week since the recruitment was issues and I didn't think much of it at the time, but I couldn't help but try and fit the pieces together.."

Nezumi's fists clenched. He'd already estimated the origin of this kid's life story, definitely never assuming that he must have lead a happy one, but this was inhumane.

"When I returned home that afternoon, I was ambushed by a group of men that threw me in the back of a van along side Safu and told me my mother was dead. Although I never saw her body, I didn't want to question it. I wanted to forget that day had ever happened..but it did, and late that after noon I was given a sedative to calm me down since I'd fought the officials so desperately."

His eyes returned to that same soothing red color, "The next day I was said to report for orientation. Along side Safu and five other children I couldn't recognize, we were all lined up and given a test of strength. I believe we were meant to endure a certain amount of pain and after a while, they promised they'd help us..to the point we never experienced any kind of pain again. Nearly every single day afterward, save for once a week that was usually used as a resting standpoint, we trained until we couldn't stand."

Violet returned, "I was sure that I was going to die, but I never did. Even after several attempts at suicide, I was standing tall, and strong, and I believe that was around the time that I'd become respected..Actually, I'm sure that I was the best. Out of every single one of them, I'm _still_ the very best. I'm an elite and quite frankly I can't be lumped in with people so clumsy as to mortally wound themselves every day on the job...Don't you find that silly, Nezumi?"

With that final question, he trailed off. Violet and red eyes alike fell shut as Shion leaned forward, until he'd realized that the boy had fallen asleep, exhausted somewhere along the way.

He wanted to push the boy off, maybe kick him around a bit or something of the like but after a story as gloomy as that, and barely brushing the surface, he couldn't help but direct his anger at the city rather than the residents. What were the odds of citizens knowing of the tragedy lurking just beneath the crystalline surface? It was a dark part of the city that never saw the light of day, and he only wondered how someone as insightful as himself had missed such vital information.

He'd never seen children so out of place in a city this small, and West Block was practically filled to the brim with people who did very little to ever remotely benefit anything other than themselves, let alone humanity. How had this boy never been deployed to such a place? Was there a certain reason behind it?

..Or perhaps there was nothing. Underneath those lies, maybe he too had been buried—to the point he'd never even bothered to notice anything out of the ordinary.

Ignoring the anger prodding the back of his mind, he lifted the boy up to the best of his ability, supporting the weight of his body with his own and lead him to the small bed at the corner of his house. He wasn't lying when he'd said that most West Block causalities were the result of poorly treated wounds, and he wanted to get this over and done with as quickly as possible.

Yet, somehow his hands shook just a bit more than he'd have liked to admit.

Halfway through bandaging the cut up, bruised skin of his right arm, he felt a pair of arms tugging at his back. He panicked, the thought of whether or not he'd taken the knife at some point had crossed his mind, but eventually relaxed as hands gently trailed themselves toward his shoulder.

Violet eyes opened wide and clutched the skin around the neck, before brushing both cheeks. "Hey Nezumi?" he asked groggily, "Did you know that living people are warm?"

Eyes widened, but he quickly shut his own emotions down. This was a strange kid, whom of which he'd run into on a strange day, in an equally strange city. There was nothing more to it than that, and sooner or later he'd use the boy and throw him away—just as the assassin, so to speak, had likely done to so many already.

**A/N: I'm not quite sure why I decided to give this fanfiction such a dark twist, but I'll try not to do so too often with the rest that follow up to this series if it's too hard to get into. The idea just sorta came to me and I was so grateful, given my writers block, that I didn't really question it. The first chapter to the D. Gray Man sequel is out, if you're following the partnership with the crossover between No. 6, K, and D. Gray Man (to which this story would be a prequel, following Shion and Nezumi's side) if you want to get started on that. **

**I, however, am not exactly sure when the next chapter for that specific story will be released. **

**Explanation (Shion's personality, Original fic, etc): Let's be honest, you've already skipped-**

** I know that a lot of people (assuming people are going to read this) may or may not approve of the drastic change in Shion's personally, but I linked that change to the fact that we all know Shion has a dark side, mainly brought out by Nezumi, but even so, it's still there. And Shion never had to face a situation like that in the original works, but upon coming across the insanity that was the hidden world of No. 6, or at least kept away from the media, he didn't exactly take it well. Nezumi was right when he'd said that city is corruption so I'm basically working off of that. **

** Of course if you've read the main fic (because as I've said, this is a prequel) then you pretty much already know what happens. I just figured that it might be fun to build up a bit of a ride for it. **

** As for that "Brief History of No. 6" I included along with the original fic, it wasn't a complete lie but I wasn't exactly telling the truth, either. In other words, it was the story leaked to the public. **

**Summarizing what I just said: This is the story of how No. 6 really fell, and how Nezumi and Shion (or perhaps, mostly Nezumi) were caught up in the mess. **

**Enjoy if you can, and please lower your guns and drills alike! There's one too many a hole in my body and the extreme piercing tournament excuse isn't working anymore. **


	2. Chapter 2

Shion had awaken later that morning. Nezumi noticed, but ultimately turned a blind eye as he attempted to delve deeper into the fine literature he held tightly in his grasp.

..It was also a bit of a test of trust. He'd not-so-purposefully set his chair along the opposite side of the bookshelf, hidden away from Shion's line of sight. If he rose to escape, then..

"Nezumi?" he whispered as he broke into a low yawn, "Are you here?"

He shut the book and set it quietly on the shelf, somewhat disappointed that he'd not a reason to test this boy's strength, yet. He moved to round the corner, but it appeared Shion had beat him to it.

"I knew you were going to be here." he stated simply as he smiled, "You love to read so I figured you might want to find a quiet place, away from distraction, namely myself..and sit back with a good book before I woke up. Was I right?"

It appeared his eyes had returned to their natural color over night—or as natural as they were able, in Shion's case—so that was a good sign.

"Really, now?" he inquired, "And do share how you figured that out, your majesty?"

"..The first thing I noticed here was the plethora of books. Anyone so intrigued with literature, especially with the way it was banned in the holy city—as you refer to it—either makes quite the paycheck off of pawning them, auctioning them, or hollowing them out and smuggling black market goods across the borders..or they're just genuinely fascinated by..who was it, Shakespeare? And works of the like."

Nezumi wanted to laugh, and brush it off as he should have..but this kid was far too insightful for his own good. Sure, he wasn't exactly hiding it but he managed to link Nezumi into the Black Market after having known the boy over the coarse of a single afternoon, excluding the amount of time he'd spent sleeping. When had Shion actually given his collection that much thought, actually?

"If you're wondering when I'd given it thought, it was somewhere between opening the door and washing the blood off."

"Smart." he smirked to himself, "You're useful. I'd keep you around if I wasn't so sure you were a headcase."

"..What's a headcase?"

His eye twitched, "Airhead."

"Airhead?" he repeated, "Nezumi, I don't know what kind of education they have in West Block..but it's been scientifically proven a multitude of times that your head, nobody's head for that matter—no matter how dimwitted—could ever possibly hope to survive-"

"-I've got it." he groaned, "Just stop talking, Shion."

Shion smiled, "Sure thing, Nezumi. Hey, if you don't mind my asking, what are you doing for breakfast?"

He shrugged, "I don't eat breakfast?"

"You don't?" he gasped as if it were one of the strangest things in the world, "How do you function? Don't you feel your hunger gnawing at you sometime in between the time you wake up and get ready? Or, when you start your day-"

"Shion." he snapped, despite his better judgment, "It's clear that you don't know as much as you should about West Block, so I'll do you a favor and clue you in. Here, it's a rarity for anyone, unless you truly are involved in either No. 6 or the black market, to get your fill of food before late noon. Food is scarce and it's not exactly a necessity when your body is so used to functioning without it. Understand?"

The boy remained silent for a moment, to the point Nezumi believed he'd made a bit of a mistake, before his frown upturned into that familiar, innocent smile. "I should have known, Nezumi. See, I assumed that you humans would have built up some sort of immunity, given the poor living conditions that seem to limit themselves to West Block in particular, but I wasn't sure, since West Block is somewhat of a broken off part of No. 6..If you will, it's kind of like our city dump. I wasn't sure if the citizens were the same, but it's clear that I was wrong."

Resisting the urge to punch the little idiot—an urge that had surfaced somewhere around the comparison of how these citizens lived while it seemed that most everyone in the holy city received a bit more than their fair share of meal's daily—and decided that urging the _other_ awake wasn't such a good idea.

Stepping out of the confines of the bookshelf, he brushed past Shion. Expecting some sort of shove, he was rather amused as Shion simply stepped out of the way and followed him.

They'd sat quietly on the couch for an awkward five minutes, before Nezumi desperately broke the silence. "I have to ask. With a background like yours, shouldn't your immunity to hunger pains surpass ours?" He asked as he'd noted the boy clutching the lower half of his stomach.

He hummed in acknowledgment before smiling happily, "You're right!" and his eyes, regretfully, shifted violet, "I have no need for food..At least, not to the degree that normal humans do. It's true that I, myself, am human..There's no help denying that, but I've gone a substantial amount of days without food a multitude of times to the point where the pains don't bother me anymore. Rather, I can't tell if they've gone away or I'm just immune to needless pain. And if you're wondering about my stomach.." he lifted his shirt, "I was just wondering when these bandages got here."

Nezumi groaned. This kid clearly didn't know when to shut up, although that _was_ interesting..

"I'm going out." he stated simply as he grabbed his coat and switchblade, "Stay here and do not, under any circumstances, allow _anyone_ inside this room, got it? And don't escape. With those wounds and that hair, you wont get far before someone gives you a hard time. And I'm sure you don't want to resort to killing again.."

Shion shook his head, "It's not my choice. Really, I don't understand it much myself but-"

"Yeah, got it." he groaned one last time before pushing the metal door open and locking it behind him.

XXX

"So you mean to tell me that you've got something so valuable that it compromises the position of No. 6 waiting for you inside of your trashy little hole of a home and you're not going to tell me what that _something_ is?"

He smirked, rather enjoying the irritated look on Inukashi's face as he shared that bit of untouchable information. It was a rare occurrence, to know something that this little information broker didn't seem to know, and he was going to enjoy it.

When he grew bored of his whining, he opened his mouth. "It's not as though I've found the literal messiah. You can relax, you know. Actually, it's better if you don't know.."

"What could possibly make that okay?!"

"The fact that if you knew, there's a likely chance you'd die. Actually I wouldn't be surprised if some _underground_ officials of No. 6 have already bugged your dogs. For all you know, they're listening to us now."

"Then _you're_ going to die, Nezumi!" he angrily exclaimed as he tensed his shoulders, "And shut the hell up! We both know that out of anyone in this entire, stupid city, _I'm_ going to survive. Even if it means I'm alone!"

"You won't be alone." he shrugged, "If I don't make it, _he_ will."

"Damnit, Nezumi, so it's a he?"

"Don't know."

"What the hell do you—"

"–I don't know, Inukashi. My memory's a bit foggy lately. You know what seems to always due the trick?"

"I swear to god, you little pick pocket. You're not weaseling money off of me again!" he stomped his foot indignantly on the dirt floor, alerting a few dogs resting nearby. They cocked their head at the commotion and while few rose to an armed and readied position, others simply watched as their _keeper_ threw a tantrum.

Nezumi was definitely enjoying himself too much to care for the dogs that bared their teeth in his direction, "Actually, now that I think about it, I hear Rikiga offers much more for this sort of stuff. I'm sure that anyone at this point, really, is willing to offer an arm and a leg.." he hummed thoughtfully, "And all I'm asking for is a bit of lunch money. Is that so bad, Inukashi?"

Inukashi, seething at this point, tossed a bag of coins in his direction. "Take it, then! Just tell me already. What the hell am I supposed to do if this damn place is overrun by officials; I wont let you be the last survivor, Nezumi!"

He shrugged, "It's really not all that important, but if you must know..I'm harboring a fugitive. If you want to live, a longer life at least, you wont ask me who he is or what he's doing here, because I don't know myself. He's got a few screws loose but he's not much of a threat in his current state..Send anyone, one of your damn dogs to my door and I'll make a coat. Got it?"

"I've got it." he grumbled, "What a useless bit of information. You damn cheat..If someone knocks on my door, asking for you, you're in big trouble!"

But Nezumi had already sped off in the opposite direction, unwilling to listen to any further lectures or complaints the keeper might offer.

XXX

He took a deep breath as he neared the door to his apartment. It wasn't as though he was nervous, but sharing an enclosed space with someone who likely wasn't certifiably allowed near children or minors—according to the city of No. 6—wasn't quite the comforting thought, either; especially when he'd, although somewhat deliberately, left a knife on the counter.

Hopes of remaining silent were crushed upon pulling the metal door open, followed by a loud creak. There was no sudden lunge or pain in his side, so he assumed he hadn't been stabbed just yet. Even so, he kept his overall safety in the back of his mind; at least if he died today, he wouldn't do so without a fight.

Rather, meeting an untimely death by way of a raging battle with an underground, bloodthirsty assassin sent from the devil city of No. 6—as _Nezumi_ referred to it—seemed like quite a death.

He was greeted with a moan of pain. "N..Nezumi?"

"Shion?" he panicked as he slid down to the floor, when Shion lay, "What the hell happened to you?"

Naturally, his first suspicion had been something along the lines of, '_they've caught us, already?!_' but Shion's calm and collected exterior, other than the obvious discomfort, wasn't much to spark much of a need for panic, just yet.

"What the hell happened to you?" he growled under his breath as he noted the blood staining his right arm. He would have helped the boy up and treated him immediately, _just_ for the sake of _not_ having someone die so profoundly on his doorstep, until his eyes spot the knife in his opposite hand.

He attacked his wrist, "What the hell is this, Shion?"

Shion smiled back at his glare with hazy, violet eyes. "That's a knife, silly. Shouldn't you know, Nezumi?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he spat, "Fine, I don't care; but this situation looks bad. People don't willingly attempt to sever their own arms off, so tell me what happened."

"—Exactly that, Nezumi."

"You've got five seconds to explain,", he twisted the arm that held the knife, "Before you lose the privilege to _keep_ both your arms."

"Ah..That kind of hurts, Nezumi." he chuckled, "I only thought of myself, I'm sorry. That was inconsiderate of me..You see, I was so angry with myself for a moment that I lost control. I never thought about the mess that I would make, I'm sorry; you'll forgive me, wont you? I swear, I'm—"

"Enough." he snapped, "I don't give a damn. Why would you attack yourself? That doesn't make any sense..Are you telling me that the wound I wrapped yesterday was your _own_ fault?"

He sheepishly nodded, "You wont tell, will you?"

"Tell?" he inquired, "Who would I tell?"

He shrugged, "Somehow, they've always found out. They've always known where, when, how I was going to do it and they've always arrived—or at least the paramedics—just in time. A minute sooner and I would have been close, but somehow you caught me so early. Thank you, Nezumi. You're such a nice person.."

He'd stopped listening ages ago. His intentions had been well over implied, and he didn't want to pry..He knew all too well that an existence to the pitiful degree of his was nothing more than a nuisance. As noble as the ideas may seem, such a program was a blemish upon the surface of the human race. Rather, he'd lost a considerable amount of faith in humanity upon meeting Shion.

"Forget that." he sighed as he yanked the boy, a bit too violently by the way his face twisted in pain, and lead him back to the bathroom to re-treat his wounds.

XXX

Shion remained silent a better majority of the time, and Nezumi didn't particularly mind.. Or at least, he wouldn't have paid so much attention to it, had his eyes not remained that _same_ color, unnatural to the point of surpassing his typical red on a scale of intimidation.

"Shion."

His head snapped up from it's position, previously facing the floor as if his feet had become a thing of wonder, "What is it, Nezumi?"

"Stop kicking me."

He nodded and Nezumi chewed his lip as he frustratedly wrapped the last bandage around the appendage of his arm, silently thanking any god that may exist for the fact that he'd arrived on time. Somehow, he'd managed to save a life capable of destroying the very bane of his own existence.

"Hey Nezumi, do you hate me?"

Nezumi hesitantly spared a glance in his direction, "What kind of question is that?"

Shion shrugged, "I don't know. It seems like you're a naturally hateful person..I mean, you have so much to hate and other than your rats, not a single person has stopped by. Aren't you lonely?"

"I'm about as lonely as you are, Shion." he stated simply with no true intention of unveiling his own emotions, which, in truth, had nothing to do with loneliness or a petty hate for anyone in particular..Of course, unless No. 6 was personified..

"But I'm lonely, Nezumi. I miss my mother, and Safu, very dearly. Sometimes I think about life before mother was murdered, and it makes me so happy.."

His eyes had shifted back to their comfortable shade of red, and Nezumi relaxed. Something about those eyes were unsettling; it was as if he became an entirely different person, undergoing such a sudden change. The longer he kept that little tendency of his under wraps, along with the rest of his bumps, cuts, and bruises, the lesser chance there was of being discovered.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?"

Shion hummed in thought, "I would say..I don't know. It's been four days since my last check-in and I believe I had breakfast that morning..Yeah, about four days."

Four days without food and he wasn't showing signs of hunger pains. That was..impressive, for a twig like him. But then again, that twig was probably also more than capable of slaughtering a small crowd of people.

Patting the bandage one last time in affirmation, he rose to his feet. Shion followed shortly, into the main room where a bed, shelves, and apparently a small kitchen lay. Nezumi grabbed the bag of what smelled a lot like food and tossed it in Shion's direction, "Do what you can with it."

"You're.." he pointed to himself, "Letting me cook for you?"

He rolled his eyes, "Quit being such a robot. The food is ours, not just mine and not just yours. As long as you know what _sharing_ is, you'll be fine. And I don't care what you make, I'm not picky."

Shion's eyes lit up as if he'd been given a gift from god, "N-Nezumi..Thank you..!"

Wishing for anything but another break down, he hurried back to the shelves. "Right, just cook."

XXX

Dinner wasn't so terrible. Although the thought hadn't exactly occurred to him the moment he'd bought the food, he wasn't quite sure that a boy of his..background had ever had many or any if at all formal cooking lessons. He was sure that dinner would bite and he'd pinch his nose and pretend to enjoy it. He really wasn't picky and in a place like West Block, you couldn't afford to be.

Surprisingly, it was rather..adequate.

"Shion.." he asked with the most courtesy he could muster with his cheeks stuffed with soup, "Who taught you how to cook?"

Shion smiled happily, seeming perfectly content with the fact that Nezumi was more than a little satisfied with his meal. "Mother taught me how to cook. Before the incident, she was a baker. Her bread was the best, though..It's a shame I never learned the recipe, but if you truly wanted me to, I'd do my best."

He set his bowl down as he restrained himself from coming off as a pig any longer, "She was a baker? Must have been a pretty homely place. That how the rest of No. 6 operates?"

His eyes fell to the bowl resting between his palms, "Really, I have no idea. Those were just the memories I had with mother, and I believe I have quite a few with Safu and her grandmother, but.."

Nezumi swore to himself. That wasn't what he had wanted to say at all..All he had wanted to do was ask a bit more about his life, before the.._incident_. Just a vain attempt to determine whether or not they'd drained the last of humanity out of this soul, and it was clear that—no, they hadn't. He was troubled, and he was lost, but Shion was most _definitely_ human.

He nearly forced himself to choke out a quick apology, but his nature, being vehemently against such displays of weakness, felt it inappropriate..Even in the presence of such a saddened face. He gathered the empty bowls and carried them to the bathroom sink, where he insisted he would wash them later.

His mind wandered to the figure in the living room, the anxiety of never knowing what to say next finally setting in. He decided that now was as good of a time as ever to get started on chores..

XXX

With two bowls, a pot, and the variety of utensils he'd somehow managed to scavenge lying around the house, there really wasn't too much work to do. Even so, somewhere along the way his rationality had lost to his will and he'd taken a shower, shortly afterward. It wasn't as though he was worried for the boy, nor did he mind the fact that he'd probably made himself comfortable.

Rather, it was the lingering sense of dread he'd felt upon witnessing the aftermath of leaving the boy alone, even for what seemed like such a little period of time. Sure, the sun had nearly set by the time he'd returned, but..

And even then the boy displayed nerve enough to apologize for his actions..Not because they were wrong, or immoral, or everything that Nezumi stood against, but because of the inconvenience he was so sure he had caused Nezumi.

What exactly brought that on? What kind of mindset must this boy had developed over the coarse of his life, to feel so irrationally?

The shower ended when he'd grown bored of playing games with himself. Asking one-sided questions never lead anyone to an answer, and he was no exception. He'd have to ask Shion in the morning..

When he passed the set of bookshelves and noticed the sleeping figure tucked neatly under the cover, he wasn't so sure what he'd do with himself, then. He was a man of no pity, but he tried so desperately to level himself around this kid, all for the sake of scorning No. 6, that he'd lost all hope in having any kind of answer.

It wasn't as though he'd be able to push the kid out of bed..and there was no way in hell he was taking the floor. Logically there was only one solution, and he seriously doubt that Shion would mind. It seemed that he was a bit more comfortable with Nezumi than Nezumi was in his own skin, and that was fine.

It just meant less of a commotion and the chances of Shion deciding to ultimately abandon him and jeopardize his long-term goal was gradually getting slimmer with the passing days.


End file.
